


Rest

by milosdinosaur



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Erik is a Sweetheart, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-X-Men: Dark Phoenix (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:34:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22984123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milosdinosaur/pseuds/milosdinosaur
Summary: Erik is always mindful to give Charles space when he needs it. But he sends him mental prods. Just little things, like a passage from the book he’s reading he thinks Charles will appreciate, as if to say,I'm here.This is how Erik speaks to him, through mental embraces, but also aloud sometimes. On a beautiful day, he murmurs, “thank you” as if Charles has created it. And before bed each night, he tells Charles he loves him.
Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier
Comments: 21
Kudos: 87
Collections: Nothing Is So Beautiful As Spring Challenge 2020





	Rest

**Author's Note:**

> For Day 2 - Bloom

They walk.

Paris is beautiful, the streets are lined with history. Left alone, for now. Decades of conflict and resolution buried beneath the stones they tread on. 

Erik doesn’t regret the years he spent at the forefront of the Brotherhood. There is only so much change that can come with time, and he still is cautious when it comes to dealing with humans. Still, he spent his years plagued by memory and remorse. Cuba, Cairo, Washington, the never-weres and might-have-beens.

At present, they amble past the Hotel Majestic. One day, they will begin to unearth the pieces. One day. For now, Erik is content to simply soak in the moment. The streets become dormant as the tourists trickle out. Lamp posts slowly blink on. 

Erik feels a brush against his mind, familiar and foreign all at once. A nudge, not the forceful push it once was, but a tentative request for permission. After so long, Charles’s telepathy should be disconcerting. And yet. 

_Yes, of course._

Erik tries hard not to think about his splintered helmet lying, untouched after everything. He mulled over going back for it, piecing the fragments back together. Herr Doktor, whose mark ran much deeper than the scars on Erik's body. His creator, twisting his puppet's strings, even then, even now. 

Word of the happenings in the school reached him, and suddenly, there was no decision to be made at all. 

It was time to leave the last remnants of Shaw behind. Let it rest. 

Gentleness is not something that comes easily to Erik. Shaw weeded out the parts of the boy that cried for his Mama, and he thought the deaths of Madga and Nina had ripped out the last vestiges of softness in him. As always, Charles has the ability to evoke emotions he long thought lost. 

Having Charles with him makes him delirious, almost slaphappy. Time is elastic, yesterday seems long ago. He lets himself bring Charles gifts. Wine, pastries, books. It’s not all smooth-sailing, there are nights in which Charles can’t keep himself from shaking, even wrapped in blankets. He curses his folly. Jean, Raven, even Alex. They all come back to haunt him. Friends and family alike, gone. 

Let morning come, Erik thinks. In the morning, he’ll take Charles to Genosha. Let the morning come with its promise of light and new beginnings. 

If a picture could be made of that day, then the world would see Charles, staring in disbelief at their home in Genosha. _Their_ home. Erik can hardly believe it. Only when Charles reaches for his hand, fingers soft and warm, does Erik know it’s real. 

Even though he tries not to seek them out, children flock to Charles like flowers turning toward the sun. He speaks to them often, learns all their names and cocoons them with warmth and affection. 

It starts naturally, small things, at first. _We are so sorry to bother you, but little Jason is struggling with reading, would the professor mind spending a while to help him?_

Charles, endlessly gracious, could not turn down the mother who so obviously wanted to help her son. 

“This would be a good time to make an example, to the children,” Charles remarks almost absent-mindedly, but Erik knows Charles. He isn’t fooled by the seemingly nonchalant tone. 

Charles misses his school, his home for years and years. More than that, Charles misses his children. Misses the triumphant glee after they have mastered a particularly difficult subject. Misses caring and nurturing.

Charles, ever the teacher, ever the builder. After everything, he is still brimming with earnestness and empathy. But, for all that the ungrateful news stations have turned Professor X into a symbol of hope and strength, Charles is only human. Coated with a layer of uncertainty that Erik wishes he could scrape away. 

He will, bit by bit. They have an abundance of time after all. 

Being with Charles every day is bliss. It continually astounds Erik that he can wrap his arms around him when they wake up in the morning, or press slow kisses into his neck as a way of greeting. 

Charles is not perfect, as Erik has always been aware. He is still the best of them. 

His home is here, with the man he adores. There's no more beautiful sight in the world than Charles: sleeping, teaching, eyebrows furrowed as he contemplates his next move from the other side of the chessboard. Anything. Then, suddenly, he breaks for Erik, giving him a warm smile.

Erik longs for Charles, always. They’ve spent so many years apart, far too many. Every parting leaves Erik with a strange loneliness. It’s a curious, but not unbearable sensation - a brush of butterfly wings against his heart. Still, Erik is always mindful to give Charles space when he needs it. But he sends him mental prods. Just little things, like a passage from the book he’s reading he thinks Charles will appreciate, as if to say, _I'm here_.

This is how Erik speaks to him, through mental embraces, but also aloud sometimes. On a beautiful day, he murmurs, “thank you” as if Charles has created it. And before bed each night, he tells Charles he loves him. 

He cooks for Charles, Matzo Ball Soup using his mother’s recipe, bread and butter pudding, anything he thinks his beloved would enjoy, always accompanied by a cup of warm tea. Charles often sleeps late, but Erik is intimately familiar with the shape of his chair, the way his pulse feels against his watch, and always knows when he’s about to appear.

Here's how Erik thinks about it: Together they constructed many things. Cerebro, the school, the X-Men. Time may have changed them, but they still remain. Charles will continue to build, improving the gardens of corn and onion, potato, garlic and apricot where flowers bloom alongside a pond teeming with fish.

Together, they make greenhouses where the rice seeds are planted; the warehouse that keeps the machines, the combine, tractor, and drying apparatus; the barn that keeps Charles’ eighteen pigeons, free to roam around and leave whenever they wish. Sometimes Erik thinks that perhaps, Charles loves them best, for they seem unlovable to everyone else.

After so many years, they’re getting to know each other again. Erik maps the expanse of Charles’ body with his hands, his mouth and his tongue. He luxuriates in the small noises Charles makes, going excruciatingly slow on some days and harsh and unrelenting on others. 

He’s in no rush. They have all the time in the world. 


End file.
